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Tuesday, May 6th, 2014 10:55 amWell, here we are again – back at work after a nice long weekend. There should be more bank holidays.
We decided to be adventurous and go into the West End on Saturday;![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ellefurtle, jfs, Furtle’s sister, Alix and me. It turns out that neither Furtle nor Alix had ever been to the Wallace Collection in Manchester Square, so we made that our prime destination. I used to go regularly in the 80s and 90s, but hadn’t visited it for about 15 years. To be honest, I think I over did it at the time, so the long gap was needed. For once, Furtle’s “ninety minute rule” didn’t apply and we spent a little over two hours looking around, though Alix disappeared to sit in the sum for a half hour. Furtle’s ninety minute rule, for those who may be interested, is usually immutable. No cultural enterprise can last longer than 90 minutes before a certain cultural ennui sets in. At that point, wine is required in copious amounts.
I was perturbed to find that the gift shop had sold out of Laughing Cavalier fridge magnets. We shall have to go again, later in the year to purchase one. The ostensible reason for a second visit was, of course, that a couple of the armour galleries were closed for renovation and will reopen in the autumn. The real reason for a second visit is for me to get my fridge magnet. Such is the declined status of culture in the 21st century.
Although there was no recuperative wine available, we walked the backstreets of south Fitzrovia (i.e. just north of Oxford Street) until we came to The Green Man - a very nice, if not particularly cheap pub not too far from Tottenham Court Road, which specialises in ciders. Arriving there at about 14.25, we wobbled out at about 17.05, three pints and lunch better off.
Navigating down to St Giles’ High Street and the Seven Dials area, the girls went off to investigate Scoops an ice cream parlour not too far from Covent Garden, while John and I descended on Forbidden Planet. We missed our chance for an ice cream ourselves, though. After we left FP, we wandered in the direction od Scoops, to meet them coming back the other way.
By this time we were all rather hot and wilty in the warmth (the after effects of the cider might have been partially responsible), so we caught the tube home. It was a good day.
We decided to be adventurous and go into the West End on Saturday;
ellefurtle, jfs, Furtle’s sister, Alix and me. It turns out that neither Furtle nor Alix had ever been to the Wallace Collection in Manchester Square, so we made that our prime destination. I used to go regularly in the 80s and 90s, but hadn’t visited it for about 15 years. To be honest, I think I over did it at the time, so the long gap was needed. For once, Furtle’s “ninety minute rule” didn’t apply and we spent a little over two hours looking around, though Alix disappeared to sit in the sum for a half hour. Furtle’s ninety minute rule, for those who may be interested, is usually immutable. No cultural enterprise can last longer than 90 minutes before a certain cultural ennui sets in. At that point, wine is required in copious amounts.I was perturbed to find that the gift shop had sold out of Laughing Cavalier fridge magnets. We shall have to go again, later in the year to purchase one. The ostensible reason for a second visit was, of course, that a couple of the armour galleries were closed for renovation and will reopen in the autumn. The real reason for a second visit is for me to get my fridge magnet. Such is the declined status of culture in the 21st century.
Although there was no recuperative wine available, we walked the backstreets of south Fitzrovia (i.e. just north of Oxford Street) until we came to The Green Man - a very nice, if not particularly cheap pub not too far from Tottenham Court Road, which specialises in ciders. Arriving there at about 14.25, we wobbled out at about 17.05, three pints and lunch better off.
Navigating down to St Giles’ High Street and the Seven Dials area, the girls went off to investigate Scoops an ice cream parlour not too far from Covent Garden, while John and I descended on Forbidden Planet. We missed our chance for an ice cream ourselves, though. After we left FP, we wandered in the direction od Scoops, to meet them coming back the other way.
By this time we were all rather hot and wilty in the warmth (the after effects of the cider might have been partially responsible), so we caught the tube home. It was a good day.